


just like that

by bloodsweatvinyl



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, handjobs, wet dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 13:39:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18011960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodsweatvinyl/pseuds/bloodsweatvinyl
Summary: Marius awoke with a start, sweating, and breathing heavily.It was a dream he’d had before, he knew that.//marius has sex dreams.inspired by 'touch me' from spring awakening





	just like that

**Author's Note:**

> hi, i wrote this in a rush while sort of exhausted after a night of work, and it has not been beta/edited, so please let me know if there are errors.

Marius awoke with a start, sweating, and breathing heavily. His face felt flushed.

It was a dream he’d had before, he knew that.

He glanced at his doorway, where the door was cracked, allowing in a small amount of light from the living room. Good. Courfeyrac was awake.

He was stretched out on the couch, with a bowl of dry cereal in his lap, watching some reality show that Marius couldn’t be bothered to remember the name of. Marius moved his feet to sit next to him.

“A nightmare?”

“Of sorts.”

There was a beat, silence, before Courfeyrac paused the TV and turned toward his roommate.

“Talk to me, Mari.”

Marius laughed quietly. He felt his stomach churn - could he tell Courfeyrac about this? He picked at a loose string on the couch for a minute before Courfeyrac, ever the space-invader, threw an arm around his shoulders and squeezed, seemingly unaware of how his body rubbed against Marius’.

“It…” Marius started, his voice quiet, “Itwassortofasexdream?”

“Oh my  _ god.” _

Courfeyrac sounded absolutely delighted - Marius had never given him any information pertaining to his sex life, but they lived together, so he knew that Marius hadn’t.. You know. In a very, very long time.

“You call that a  _ nightmare, _ Pontmercy? Everyone has sex dreams! Well, except Enjolras, he says, but I think he’s lyi-”

“It was about someone I  _ know!” _

That only seemed to spur Courfeyrac on. “Who? Marius, I didn’t even know you  _ liked _ anyone. Or maybe you don’t? Do you want just a quick fuck? Or maybe it’s your psyche finding whatever it can to release sexual tension - Combeferre says that happens - is it one of Les Amis? Honestly, I’d fuck most of our friends, if there were no strings attached. Grantaire said, one time, “is this whole group made up of sex gods?” and I kind of agree-”

Marius started to drown out Courfeyrac’s tirade, in favor of thinking about the dream. He’d had it six times this month. The first couple of times he dirtied the sheets - he’d never had a wet dream before, so this was a shock - but he’d learn to scare himself awake before that happened, at this point.

There was no way this was random. He knew Courfeyrac was hot,  _ everyone _ knew Courfeyrac was hot.

There were hands on his abdomen. Marius jerked away and Courfeyrac laughed. “You zoned out. I was just fucking with you.”

Silence, again, as Marius tried to find words.

“Do you want to tell me about it? I won’t force you,” Courfeyrac said, no longer teasing. It’s what he called his Therapist Voice - gentle, soothing, like he’s bringing someone down from an anxiety attack. “You can just tell me to fuck off if you want.”

Marius has never been able to do that, not to Courfeyrac.

“Well,” he sighed, timid and small, “I won’t tell you who it was about,” Courfeyrac whined dramatically, “But I could… give you hints?”

“So you’re going to tell me about the dream?”

Another sigh. “Sure, Coco.”

Courfeyrac didn’t squeal like Marius expected, but instead he exhaled, like he was trying to keep himself together. Marius didn’t try to think about that.

“He has green eyes.”

That didn’t narrow it down. The eye color split was about even across the board in Les Amis - green could have been Courfeyrac, or it could have been Joly, or Feuilly. 

“Curly hair.” Courfeyrac and Feuilly.

Courfeyrac nodded.

“He’s got… really nice hands.”

“That’s subjective.”

Okay, fuck it.

“It’s you.” 

The words left his mouth before he could think about it, and now he couldn’t take it back. Courfeyrac exhaled again, his hands in fists on his knees. Marius couldn’t bear to look at his face.

“What, uh, what did I do? In this dream.”

“Are you okay with this?”

“Are  _ you?” _

_ Okay, _ Marius thought, _ We’re doing this. _

How did he start?

“You, uh,”  _ Fuck, _ he thought, “You started with your hands.”

“Where?”

“My chest,” he said, and there were Courfeyrac’s hands again, sturdy on his chest. “You moved them - slowly - up to my neck, then my face,” Courfeyrac did as he said, cupping his face with both hands, like some kind of romantic film. Marius felt secure. “You kissed me.”

Courfeyrac was suddenly very, very close. “Do you want this?”

Marius answered him by pressing his lips against Courfeyrac’s, gentle, almost chaste. Courfeyrac’s hand move to the back of his head, running through his hair, tugging lightly. Marius exhaled and Courfeyrac takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss - God, Marius forgot he has his  _ tongue pierced _ . He kissed Marius breathless, and after pulling away, rested his forehead against Marius’. Their lips were centimeters apart.

“What next, Mari?”

Marius felt a flutter at the nickname.

He reached up, grabbed Courfeyrac’s wrists, and guided them downward, to caress his abdomen. “You touched me,” he whispered, feeling Courfeyrac breathe against his lips, “Everywhere.”

He felt Courfeyrac’s long eyelashes against his cheek. His own hands guided his roommate’s to his thighs, bending his knees, running along his calves, and back up again. They landed on Marius’ hips, and somehow in the process Courfeyrac ended up between Marius’ legs. His hands left Courfeyrac’s, to explore Courfeyrac’s chest, his muscular arms, staying on the small of his back.

They kissed, again, and again, and again. Marius felt Courfeyrac’s tongue against his jaw, his neck, his collarbone. He knew he was being marked; he moaned loudly when he felt Courfeyrac’s teeth on his neck.

“Marius,” Courfeyrac sighed into his neck, “Tell me what to do.”

Marius whimpered. He couldn’t find the words, no, but he could take Courfeyrac’s hands -  _ god _ , those hands - and guide them to his backside, rolling his hips in a way that makes both of them groan.

He then guided Courfeyrac’s fingers under his top, pushing up the hem, until Courfeyrac got the hint and pulled it over his head, then the same with his own. Courfeyrac kissed down his chest, stopping to toy with each nipple on the way, until he reached the hem of Marius’ pajama pants. He looked up at Marius for approval.

Marius grabbed him by the hair and pulled him back up for a kiss, holding his hands where they were on Marius’ hips. Courfeyrac ground down with a deep sigh.

“I just… want,” Marius breathed between kisses, “Your hands.”

Courfeyrac groaned and shoved Marius’ pajama pants down, laughing when he found no boxers in place. Marius did the same to Courfeyrac, pulling sweatpants and boxers down in one go, and held Courfeyrac’s hand again. He, first, circled their heads, spreading around the wetness there, then held both of them in he and Courfeyrac’s hands.

Courfeyrac bit Marius’ lip and pulled, grinning when Marius whined.

“Is this what you dreamed about, Mari?” He whispered in Marius’ ear, licking gently for a moment before continuing, “You like my hands, huh? We can,  _ fuck _ , work with that.”

His voice became more and more shaky as he continued, his moans got lost with Marius’. Marius took the liberty to wrap his legs around Courfeyrac, pulling him as close as he could with room for their hands.

Shockingly, Courfeyrac came first.

It started with him biting his lip, then he hid his face in Marius’ neck, then Marius could feel Courfeyrac’s fingers quiver under his. His hips jerked and he came with a cry, shivering, holding onto Marius for dear life.

Marius felt tears sting his eyes as he neared his own orgasm. He’d removed his own hand to allow Courfeyrac, a caring lover, to finish him off.

His toes curled, fingers digging into Courfeyrac’s shoulders, leaving marks, no doubt. He heard himself whimper Courfeyrac’s name, and then he was done, sticky and shivering and crying, because he  _ always _ cried during sex, and Courfeyrac knew that, and Courfeyrac kissed him.

Their breath mixed as they came down from their shared high. Marius knew they both needed showers, but that could wait.

Courfeyrac smiled that brilliant smile as he sat up, staring right at Marius, and brought his dirtied hand up to his mouth, and  _ sucked _ . Marius could have died right there and been happy - the way his come,  _ his come, _ covered Courfeyrac’s fingers, the way that pierced tongue wrapped around his middle finger and the rose tattoo there, the way Courfeyrac seemed to revel in the taste of Marius - it was all so much, if Marius didn’t just come, he’d have been ready to go again.

When Courfeyrac has licked himself clean, he fell on top of Marius, wrapped an arm around him, and snuggled close.

“We need showers,” Marius said.

“That can wait,” replied Courfeyrac.

Marius nodded.

“You should have wet dreams more often,” Courfeyrac said, before drifting off to sleep, leaving a somewhat mortified Marius awake under him.

He could probably work with that.


End file.
